


Five People Tessa Embraced and the Moment She Herself Clung Tight

by puchuupoet



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Deathfic, Gen, Suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-08-23
Updated: 2010-08-23
Packaged: 2017-10-11 17:37:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,433
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/114924
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/puchuupoet/pseuds/puchuupoet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>So many thanks to <a href="http://playthefool.livejournal.com/profile"><img/></a><a href="http://playthefool.livejournal.com/"><strong>playthefool</strong></a> for all the support and flailing and help this past month ♥♥♥</p>
    </blockquote>





	Five People Tessa Embraced and the Moment She Herself Clung Tight

**Author's Note:**

> So many thanks to [](http://playthefool.livejournal.com/profile)[**playthefool**](http://playthefool.livejournal.com/) for all the support and flailing and help this past month ♥♥♥

  
i.

"It's my fault, isn't it?" The voice is soft, airy, and Tessa automatically looks up and around, searching for it. She takes slow steps, hears her heel cut through the charred throw rug, can feel it fade away into powder underneath her toes. She keeps walking, passing the roughened remains of furniture and knickknacks, photos curling and burnt under glass.

Tessa pauses in the first doorway she comes across, feels the wood crunch as she leans against it. It's worse here, the heart of the fire. Wallpaper is peeling off like an August sunburn, curling around a blackened dresser, the brass knobs gleaming in the moonlight. Despite everything that's happened here, the bed's relatively clean, slightly singed and scattered with grey ashes.

Tessa heads towards it, sees the curve of hair over the edge of the bed. It's a stark outline in the darkness, blonde hair turned white by the ashes, and Tessa knows if she were to reach out, it would all crumble apart in her fingertips.

"It hurt," the voice continues, and Tessa pauses as the body twists around, grasping at the edge of the bed, fingers gripping the comforter. "When he reached into me, when it all came tumbling out."

The body stands, and while nothing surprises Tessa anymore, she can't stop from staring at the bloody stain on the front of the white satin slip, the hole in the woman's gut embellished when her breath flutters in and out.

"He twisted his hand, leaned in close and told me I was a present, a sacrifice." The blonde continues as she starts to walk around the bed. "Told me to suck it all in, hold it in just for Sam, for when he came back to me." She stops when she's in front of Tessa, and she stares her in the eyes. "He lied to me, didn't he?"

Tessa nods, once, and then the blonde is crumbling before her, down on her knees as she starts to sob, soot smeared across her cheeks. Tessa can't stop herself, reaching down to rub at the marks with her thumb.

"He's gone, isn't he?"

Tessa nods again, not really caring which man the girl's referencing. They're both gone, flitting away through the snap of a finger or the purr of an engine. Doesn't matter which in the end. Just that Tessa's here, scraping up the pieces.

ii.

She shouldn't be here. It's heavy and dark and dripping, and she can feel her skin crawl, even though she's not the one wearing it.

Tessa can feel him inside her head, laughing at her, _It's okay doll, just have to see it through_ and she tries to fight those words. Struggles against herself, even as her arms stay firmly crossed across her chest, hip cocked out.

She doesn't know what she's expecting, when Azazel swoops her up, lifts her to the doorway of Dean's room, and she can hear John Winchester's voice, broken and apologetic. Orderlies are walking through her, bare wisps against her skin, but she can't feel them, only knows when Azazel trembles from excitement. She can feel the pleasure course through her, nothing she's ever felt before, so intense, so _bold_ , and she shudders.

Azazel flits her away, the movement jerking her gut into her mouth, and it takes her a moment to realize that she's in John's room. Azazel straightens her up, blinks once and she's gone yellow, staring down John with a pleased grin on her face.

~

When Tessa comes to she's still standing there, free in her head and blinking dumbly down at John Winchester. She can sense Sam there, still living, breathing hard and desperate and yelling, but she fades him out.

She tries focusing on John, but there's only a wisp of him left, nothing she can harvest or cling to. She can taste the hellfire in the back of her throat, can still make out the trail where he was dragged down, and she steps back instinctively, still feeling the burn through her limbs.

There is nothing left for her here, despite the doctors' efforts, the frantic pumping and the cries of Dean and Sam. Dean. She watches their faces, maps the fall of their mouths, their eyelids, when the machine steadily hums and their prayers go unanswered.

Tessa watches them watch their father die, even though it already happened moments earlier. How the more they strain, hoping for a miracle, the tighter they pull, blood spilling from the barely healed cuts dotting their faces.

She can feel other souls growing stronger, grasping at her, and she knows it's time to leave. Her last glimpse of Dean Winchester is bruised and bloody, lips whispering _no_ and even now she knows she'll run into him sooner rather than later.

iii.

The sun streaming in through the windows amplifies the stench of copper saturating the air. Tessa moves past it all, til she's standing at the foot of the bed, her legs brushing against a pair of feet. They shift, kick at Tessa before rolling over, a knee hitching up to rest on the pile of blankets pushed to one side.

Tessa knows exactly how deeply the mattress is soaked, that there's a bullet lodged in the right ventricle and that it was shot with a sure hand. There's no slick gurgle when an arm reaches out and grabs at the blankets, pulls them closer with a soft sound.

"I know you're there." The voice is muffled by a pillow. "I just... just a moment longer. Please."

Tessa waits, unaccustomed to the silence and calm acceptance. She knows what happened, even if she wasn't here to watch it all fall apart. If she thinks about it too deeply, her ears pick up the panicked heartbeat, the softly gasped " _please, Sam_ " that makes everything ache. She can taste tears on her lips, one last messy kiss that somehow makes everything better and worse at the same time.

Tessa pulls herself back to the moment, blinking as the blankets start to move and messy brown hair emerges from under the covers.

"Just remembering," she smiles at Tessa before sitting up, dragging her fingers over the pillows. "I think I'm ready now."

iv.

Tessa holds back til the ghost is gone, til the house is cleared and she can feel him pacing, hesitant and fearful. Except the closer Tessa gets, the warmer he becomes, and when she finally reaches him, she can see the slight grin on his face, blood drying on his lips.

Tessa does her best not to startle this one, doesn't even know how she would be able to integrate herself into the moment. She's still across the room from him, approaching from behind and every time his shoulders shudder with breath she can hear the air whistle over the puncture in his throat.

When he does finally turn around and see her, he doesn't even hesitate. He meets her halfway and in the low light of the morning sun she can see the tears streaking his cheeks.

He wraps his arms around her before Tessa even has a chance to open her mouth, and she holds back, curious.

"He told me he loves me." He murmurs into the curve of her neck, mouth grinning and smearing blood across her skin. "Did you hear that?"

Tessa nods against his shoulder, unable to speak. She folds her arms around him, enveloping him in a burst of golden light.

 _you are loved_

v.

Tessa's sneakers echo in the empty hallway, and she walks down the rows of lockers, her arm outstretched, her fingers running over the metal. They're numb by the time she reaches the end of the row, and she glances up at the overhanging sign: _Girls_

She carefully pushes open the door, and now that she's surrounded by tiles the sobbing is crystal clear, echoed throughout the bathroom.

All the doors are propped open save the last one, and Tessa heads towards it. She knocks and is surprised when the latch clicks and the door swings open.

There's a body sitting against the far wall facing her. The head's resting on one shoulder, knees drawn up tight while his arms are sprawled out, the skin on his forearms stained dark and bloody. She can see the cuts under the drying blood, hopeless slashes running from elbow to wrist, deep enough to where the skin is starting to curl back against itself.

A muffled sob catches her attention, breaks her gaze away to focus on the floor next to her. He's curled up there, face hidden in his shirt as he rocks forward and back.

"Hi there." She crouches down next to him. "I'm Tessa."

He's mumbling into his t-shirt, sobbed out words that die off when he raises his head around to look at her. His glasses are smeared with tears and snot and Tessa can tell he's trying hard not to look back at himself.

"I, I, I..." His breath hitches in his throat, and Tessa reaches out to place a hand on his shoulder. "They wouldn't stop, they'd never stop, never." He hiccups and wipes his face with his sleeve. "It was never going to stop, I didn't know what to do."

He drops his head, lets it rest against Tessa's hand before glancing back at her. "Everyone told me to talk it out, to ignore it, to try and be friends. Didn't they get it?" He shakes his head and his hair tickles against Tessa's skin. "This was the only way to make it stop."

His shoulders have finally stopped shaking, and Tessa allows herself to run her fingers through his hair. "Ready to leave this place behind?"

He nods and she stands, reaching down to pull him up. He glances back at himself, pale against the grey tiles, and she can feel the shudder that runs through him. "Please, let's go."

Tessa nods, pulls him closer to her and she can feel him finally smile as they both drift away.

vi.

This is new, different than anything she's ever experienced, and Tessa cautiously steps through the doorway. There is blood everywhere, the corpses of gods lying cracked and broken, scattered down the hallway. She can feel her feet sink into the carpet, blood squelching up between her toes and in any other situation she wouldn't have noticed, would have just kept walking. Except this time she makes the mistake of glancing down, sees the tide line the blood leaves on her skin and the faint scorched remains of the trail of foot prints before her, remnants of sulfur melted into the carpet and tracked over the tiles.

She follows them down the hall, keeps her head up as best she can, eyes darting away from the gore splattered against the walls. She's seen worse, through the wars and genocides and slaughter she's been sent to over existence, but she can feel power dying here, curling around her with one last gasp. Tessa has crossed paths with many gods over the years, silent nods of acknowledgment, everyone secure in their place in the system. All except for one, and she stays vigilant as she steps into the room.

There are still ashes in the air, charred bits of wings left over and Tessa doesn't know where to begin. Usually Heaven takes care of its own, but with the way things are now, she felt the pull herself and followed it here, out of curiosity and duty. To this broken down motel in the middle of nowhere, electric blue flashing out between the raindrops, a lot full of abandoned cars and warning scent of hellfire smeared over the entrance.

She takes care as to where she steps, can't bring herself to get near the residue of the wings. They're still powerful, thrumming as the light finally fades, and Tessa finds herself holding her breath til the energy wisps upward and away, leaving a smear of ashes behind.

"Even I don't find myself _that_ fascinating." The voice is behind Tessa, sounding amusedly pleased. It surprises her, an unfamiliar feeling, and she twists around to see what's capable of catching her off-guard.

The look on his face is less confident than his voice implies, and Tessa watches his eyes flicker from her face to his body behind her, his face unreadable. She moves closer to him, closing the distance so that he has to look at her, focus on her face instead of the carcass behind her.

Tessa opens her mouth to speak, introduce herself, anything really, to the archangel before her. Even in death his presence is intimidating, a world away from her own, and she has a hard time believing that she is the one to lead him from this world, this mess.

He cuts her off before she can say anything, his gaze running from her bloodied bare feet to meet her eyes. "You're not who I was really expecting to see."

Tessa shrugs. "Death is tethered. And I happened to be in the neighborhood."

"He isn't for long though, if destiny is twisted as it should be."

Tessa huffs out a laugh. "You're preaching destiny to a reaper? We have our place in the world, Trickster, and the current family infighting isn't going to change that any time soon."

He smiles at her, sadly. "This is one of those situations where if you keep to yourself, away from all of this," he gestures at the massacre in the hallway. "It makes it harder to guess when the tide's gonna shift."

"It's my job to guide the restless home, not take on heaven or hell."

"But you've wanted to do more, haven't you? Boost someone up top who needs it, or send the deserving on a downward spiral to the pit." The look in his eyes is fierce and Tessa can't bring herself to look away. "Death is wriggling loose and who knows what will happen when he breaks his chains and hunts down Lucifer."

Tessa raises her chin, mentally rifling through her options but she realizes even now that they're limited. And she'd rather not consider the possibility of Lucifer winning, tightening the leash so that even the lowliest reaper feels the strain. "You have a plan, don't you, Trickster."

"It's Gabriel, sweetheart." He cocks an eyebrow at her. "You in?"

Tessa only waits a moment before nodding, and before she knows it the Archangel is stepping closer, wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her close.

"I lead this time," he murmurs against her cheek before the light surrounds them both.


End file.
